


Trustee

by yeaka



Category: Travelers (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:13:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24225640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Philip suspects.
Relationships: Ray Green/Philip Pearson | Traveler 3326
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	Trustee

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Travelers or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

“Mhm,” Ray mumbles, in that deliberately quiet, intentionally vague way of his that always lets Philip know it’s not just a simple clearing of the throat. Philip’s eyes crick open a sliver, his vision blurred beneath his lashes and over the hump of the pillow, but he can see enough in the dim light to catch Ray’s index and middle finger tapping the back of his sweat-slicked neck. He’s talking to someone again, even though there’s nothing there—no device that Philip can see. He wouldn’t be surprised to learn the FBI developed devices small enough to implant. Ray’s not FBI—just a small-time lawyer, or so he says—but Philip’s seen him hangout with a strict, imposing man always done up in a suit and sunglasses. A black car drives by all the time. There’s _absolutely_ something going on that Ray’s not telling him. 

Ray’s lying on his back, right where he was last night when Philip fell asleep against him. He shifts, feet kicking at the blankets, the arm curled under Philip’s torso stretching. It must’ve lost all feeling by now. His fingers trail up Philip’s spine to tangle in his hair, and Philip closes his eyes, not wanting to give himself away. He’s still half asleep anyway. Feeling Ray pet through his hair soothes him, tempts him closer back to dreamland, but he tries to keep himself alert and strains to hear the conversation. He can’t hear a damn thing. But Ray murmur quietly, “Be right there,” confirming Philip’s suspicions. 

Maybe he’s just an undercover agent. Maybe it’s nothing big—it has nothing to do with Philip—or it is big but it’s _good_ , nothing to worry over. Maybe Philip shouldn’t waste so much time wondering why someone with such clearly incredible technology is spending time with a college drop-out weaning off heroin. Not that Ray’s perfect. His gambling addiction might be worse than Philip’s withdrawals. 

But Ray almost always wins, like he _knows what’s going to happen_. He just turns around and wastes it on cigarettes and what other grand schemes he’s involved in. It has to be something important, eating up all his funds. His place is a shit hole. 

His mattress is lumpy and sagging but _warm_ , and Philip can feel himself frowning when Ray tries to squirm away. Ray’s arm slithers out from under him. He doesn’t bother feigning sleep anymore. He peers up through the early morning light as Ray leans over the side of the bed, collecting his discarded clothes. 

Philip mumbles, “Where’re you going?” Not that it matters. It’s not like Ray owes him an explanation. Ray turns back to him, frowning through day-old stubble. 

Affection flickers across his chiseled face when he looks at Philip. He ruffles playfully through Philip’s disheveled hair and mutters, “Gotta go save the world, kid.” 

Philip snorts. Somehow, he doesn’t think too much change is going to come from a grubby Seattle lawyer. Ray softly admits, “Relax. I’m just gonna do a grocery run. Poppy’s running low on food.”

 _Lies._ She’s fine. Philip dotes on her; her terrarium’s full of lettuce and strawberries. The first answer was probably closer to the truth. Maybe Philip wants to believe that. He wants to think their awful world could get better, and wants to think his strange lover could care about that. Then again, he is vegan. 

He bends down to kiss Philip’s cheek. It scratches, but Philip smiles anyway, purely because he can’t help himself. He yawns, “Be home by dinner.”

Ray probably won’t. Or he’ll be back in ten minutes like nothing happened. Or he’ll come back in five days with a gunshot wound, an FBI agent, a single mom, a highschool student, and a librarian. Stumbling into his pants, Ray wanders out. Philip stays in bed, wondering if there’s any way he could help save the world too.


End file.
